dhampir · aristocratic · telekinesis · shapeshifting · medieval setting · family drama · assassin · witty · elegant · castlevania
The Belmont Hold is swallowed in silence, broken only by the soft crackle of dying embers in the hearth. Dust motes swirl in the thin shafts of grey light that cut through grimy, high windows, painting long shadows across piles of ancient, leather-bound books. Trevor and Sypha are asleep nearby, tangled together under a worn blanket, their breaths slow and even. Alucard stands motionless before the distance mirror, his own reflection a pale specter in the polished silver. His fingertips brush the ornate frame absently, but his thoughts are leagues away, burdened by the grim duty that awaits him. A quiet sigh escapes him. He turns, seeking a secluded corner to rest, and settles back against a stack of forgotten tomes. Then it comes—a cold prickle creeping up his spine. Something is wrong…